


If you feel like winning

by hesychasm (Jintian)



Category: Bring It On (2000)
Genre: College, Community: femslash04, F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-01
Updated: 2004-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jintian/pseuds/hesychasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Torrance adjusts to college life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you feel like winning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minim Calibre (minim_calibre)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minim_calibre/gifts).



> Written for LJ challenge femslash04.
> 
> Thanks to Nonie Rider for the quick-n-dirty beta love.

  
The campus looked like a Kinko's had exploded onto it: flyers of every color, slick banners fronting tables with petitions and brochures, nervous-looking freshmen edging through the maze with folders clutched in their arms.

Torrance consulted her orientation map and pushed through the crowd of bodies, trying to locate the cheerleading booth. She held her head high. Her smile shone out bright and pearly. When she got to the table, she stuck out her hand to shake.

"Hi! I'm Torrance Shipman! Ready and eager to cheer the Bears on to victory -- ow!"

She caught her balance on the edge of the table as someone shoved in next to her. Shoulders bumped, hips jostled. "Isis," the someone said in a cool, unruffled voice. "I'm just ready."

Torrance barely stopped her mouth from falling open. "Oh, my God!" she cried, grinning like a maniac. "What's _up_? I didn't know you were going to Cal!"

Isis' cheek dimpled. "Hell yeah. They've got the best bio department in the state."

"Well, _cool!_ " Torrance wondered if she should hug Isis hello or something, but Isis was leaning back, arms crossed, her stance radiating "bring it."

"So you're trying out for the squad," Isis said.

"Well, duh." Torrance couldn't seem to wipe the grin off her face. "And you?"

Isis' smile deepened. "Looking forward to being your captain one day."

"You do aim high, huh?" Torrance shook her head, but her pulse was racing. Competition always brought out her inner tiger.

"I like to think I aim for the inevitable," Isis said. Then, completely casual, she brushed a hand down Torrance's upper arm, signed her name on the try-out sheet, and marched off through the crowd.

Torrance stood there sputtering. She rubbed her elbow where Isis had touched it.

The cheerleaders behind the table eyed her curiously.

"We're actually good friends," Torrance lied, re-aiming her thousand-watt grin. She signed her own name beneath Isis' with a flourish.

As she made her way out of the orientation fair, someone pushed a flyer into her hand. "Sappho's Sisters. First meeting's on Tuesday night in the Commons."

Torrance glanced down at the bright purple paper. "I'm not -- I have a boyfriend!"

The girl in front of her smirked. "Sure you do. See you at the meeting."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Torrance shouted at the girl's retreating back. "Hey, wait! I said I'm not gay!" People around her snickered and her face burned.

Furiously, she stuffed the flyer into her folder and headed to her dorm.

*

Despite the rough beginning on orientation day, cheer try-outs were totally sweet. Torrance breezed through her routine as well as the requests from the panel. She could see they were impressed, and it didn't hurt to have "Captain of the Rancho Carne Toros" on her list of previous cheer experiences, of course.

Isis, though. _Isis_.

Torrance snuck back into the gym to see her audition. Her breath stopped as Isis strode out into the center of the court, shoulders thrust back, sneakers squeaking crisply on the slick floor. At the judging table, the squad leaders straightened in their seats to pay attention.

"Ready, okay!" Isis shouted. Her voice rang through the rafters. She began her motions, her stomps and claps reverberating through the floor. "If you feel like winning and you're feelin' fine, then let your body rock and let your feet keep time!"

The last three words were punctuated with... _undulations_ were the only way Torrance could describe them. Isis' body looked liquid, like she was all motion and muscle and fire.

"Let your arms do the wave, your body gigolo, and if you like to pump, then let yourself go!"

At the cheer's end Isis swung her hips around, her hands sweeping up her sides. Remembering the feel of that caress on her arm, Torrance shivered.

She found herself waiting outside the gym for Isis to come out. Her heart was beating hard. She bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to expel whatever it was that kept tensing up her insides.

The door swung open, and there was Isis. She didn't look surprised to see Torrance. "Good stuff in there," she said. Her smile was brilliant and genuine. "You definitely didn't slack off this summer."

"Neither did you. That was _amazing_ ," Torrance gushed. Suddenly, she felt oddly shy. "You're always so...you always do so much _more_ than everybody else."

"I know." Isis shrugged. "But I figure anything less than more is just like, what's the point, you know?"

"Sure," Torrance said. She did know, just not the same way Isis did, apparently.

Isis was watching her. Torrance felt a split second of almost-discomfort at her intense scrutiny, then Isis flashed a dimple and teeth again and said, "I was thinking about doing some laps on the track. Wanna come with me?"

Torrance's heart beat a little faster. "Okay."

*

Predictably, they were the only two freshman chosen for the squad. Torrance hugged Isis in front of the results list on the bulletin board, hugged her without thinking, without checking first for crossed arms or an inviting smile. But Isis hugged her right back, her body strong and warm. They headed off to the student union, arms linked, for celebratory mochachinos.

After that Torrance's days were a whirlwind of practices sandwiched between classes and homework, stolen moments in Cliff's dorm room before running off to train with Isis. Missy was extremely impressed with the latter.

"You mean she hasn't tried to take out your kneecap with a baseball bat yet?"

Torrance laughed into the phone. "She's not like that. We're totally friends now."

"Her mom isn't from Texas or anything, is she?"

"Ha ha."

"I'm just telling you to watch your back, Torr. New York's a little far away for me to do it for you."

Cliff shook his head when Torrance told him his sister's advice. "You cheerleaders are scary."

"Definitely tougher than we look," Torrance agreed. She leaned in for a quick goodbye kiss. Cliff tried to make it last, but she broke away and jogged to the field where Isis was already doing warm-ups.

Isis shaded her eyes and peered at Cliff, who was making dorky cheerleading gestures from the sidelines. "That your boyfriend?"

"Yep," Torrance said. "We've been together since Nationals." She waved Cliff off, who pouted and faded away in the direction of the dorms.

Isis made a "huh" face. "I always thought you and your girl might've had a little something."

"My girl?"

"You know, the dark-haired one, hella fine? What was her name, Minnie or something?"

"Missy?" Torrance stopped in the middle of stretching her quads. "We're just friends. Cliff's her _brother_."

"Hey, it's no big," Isis said. "Just sometimes I got a different vibe off of you."

"What's that supposed to -- " But Isis was already off and jogging down the track. "Shit!"

Cutting her stretches short, Torrance ran to catch up with her.

*

"Why do people keep _saying_ stuff like that to me?" Torrance huffed after a while.

"What people and what stuff?"

"You know, people thinking I'm gay or whatever. I mean, I have a boyfriend! And I'm a cheerleader for God's sake."

"Honestly, Torr, that really doesn't mean all that much." Isis sounded amused. "Haven't you seen that movie?"

She had. Missy had shown it to her, in fact, her dark eyes wicked and laughing.

"Anyway," Isis said, "why do you care what people think?"

"Of course I don't care what people think!" Torrance waved her arms for emphasis. "But even you were wondering and -- oh, fuck it. Can we just jog and not talk about this anymore?"

"Fine, whatever you want." Isis fell silent.

Torrance upped her speed. Isis matched her stride for stride, until they were sprinting around the track. Sweat drenched Torrance's sports bra and the waistband of her shorts. Her lungs felt like someone had pierced them with a salad fork. She looked over at Isis, who seemed to be showing actual strain for once, her breath coming fast and hard.

It was late afternoon already when they'd begun. Dusk settled as they continued; the reserve lights around the stadium came up, and the area began to empty of people. Finally Torrance veered off into the grassy area inside the track and flopped onto the ground. She gulped down the water bottle Isis tossed at her, gasping between swallows.

"You should stretch," Isis said, doing so herself.

Torrance dragged herself up and bent one knee. As if on cue, her hamstring muscles clenched like an iron fist at the back of her thigh. "Ow, _fuck_!" She fell to the ground again, clutching her leg. "Cramp!"

Immediately Isis bent over her. "Straighten out," she said. She put a strong hand under Torrance's thigh and pushed her knee down with the other, then moved Torrance's hands aside and began to massage the muscles.

Torrance bit her lip, sucking in breath. She tried to make her leg obey Isis' orders, tried to push it straight despite the screaming fury of the cramp, tried to concentrate on Isis' warm, insistent stroking.

"Good girl," Isis murmured. She was haloed in yellow from the stadium lights, slightly blurry through the tears in Torrance's eyes. Around them the scents of grass and turf and sweat mingled.

Eventually the cramp eased off and Torrance could bend her leg again.

Isis didn't move her hands, though. "You okay?" she asked. Her voice was soft.

Torrance nodded and propped herself up on her elbows. "Thanks." Her heart was racing again. She wondered if Isis could feel it -- it was beating so hard she wondered if Isis would be able to feel it even if they weren't touching.

"No problem," Isis said. Her hands were so warm, so close to -- and before Torrance knew what she was doing, she propped herself higher and put her mouth to Isis'.

 _Again_ without thinking or invitation, God, what _was_ her problem lately? It was almost a complete miss, the angle awkward and not at all good for kissing. But Torrance managed to catch Isis' lower lip, one half of that wide, confident smile, before tilting her head to meet the rest of it -- and there they were, mouth on mouth, kissing.

Isis pulled back a little. "Torr?" she breathed. One hand left Torrance's thigh to balance herself in the grass.

"Guess I'm not so straight after all," Torrance said.

"Guess not." Isis leaned into her, changing the angle, moving her hand up Torrance's arm -- Torrance shivered and pressed closer -- to grip her shoulder and hold her in place. Her tongue darted out to trace the outline of Torrance's mouth.

"Guess you're not either," Torrance murmured against her.

"Guess not," Isis said, and her voice was hot in Torrance's ear. She kissed Torrance's neck, licking droplets of perspiration away. Torrance gasped. Heat bloomed low in her belly, spreading between her legs. She put her hand on top of Isis', moved it on her thigh and pushed it higher, toward her sex. Together their fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shorts.

She was wetter than she'd ever been for anyone -- Aaron, Cliff, even herself when she was fumbling alone in the dark, trying like hell not to think of cheerleaders or short skirts or, on one memorably weak occasion, Missy sleeping next to her the night before Senior Skip Day. It was as if Isis was pulling all of that out of her, thoughts and feelings she'd kept pent up for longer than she could remember.

"You're so..." Torrance moaned. "I..."

"I know," Isis said, like she always said.

Isis' workout clothes were skin tight. Torrance slid a tentative hand over the curve of Isis' breast, palming the taut nipple at its peak. Growing bolder, she nudged Isis over onto her side, the grass tickling her legs, and bent her head to lick Isis through her tank top. The spandex cloth was smooth and salty. Beneath Torrance's tongue Isis shivered and made a breathy, broken sound. Wanting to hear it again, Torrance nudged Isis' legs apart and slipped her fingers between them.

"Yeah." Isis gasped. "Oh, yeah."

She worked the hand in Torrance's shorts faster, circling her clit with a slick finger, and Torrance felt her body jumpstart into a higher gear. She mimicked the motions against the tight, moist cloth covering Isis' sex.

Isis thrust against her, kissed her again and thrust her tongue into Torrance's mouth. Torrance kissed back, hard enough to almost unbalance them, to almost push Isis onto her back if Isis weren't pushing her as well.

She felt the orgasm building from a mile away, like a thunderstorm on the horizon, down in her toes and tingling up her legs and shuddering out from her clit, arching her back like a lightning bolt, the pleasure grabbing her by the throat to shake out a broken cry: " _Oh!_ " And in the midst of it all Isis throwing her head back as she came, her voice ringing out shameless and strong in the empty stadium.

After a moment, Isis said, panting, " _Damn_. You sure you never did that before?"

"Well, not to anyone but myself," Torrance said. She grinned up into the starlit sky. "But I've been wanting to for a long time.

"Think you might want to do it again? Later, I mean?"

"Yeah," Torrance said. And she wanted to say more. Because Isis was so much more than anything. But she figured Isis knew that already.

So she lay back on the field, pulling Isis' arms around her, until their mingled breathing grew quiet and controllable again.

And later, when Isis held out her hand and pulled Torrance up to stand, when she brushed grass from Torrance's stomach and back, fingers lingering at the swells of her breasts and ass, Torrance smiled, thinking about the showers in the women's locker room. Thinking about peeling off Isis' shorts and bra, licking water from the tips of her smooth dusky nipples, about kissing her way down Isis' stomach, dipping her tongue into that silken hollow hiding her clit, what Isis would taste like there, how it would differ from her mouth or her breasts or the rest of her skin.

She stood there thinking about it, heat flushing through her again, until Isis called from the other end of the darkening field, "Hey, Torr, you coming or what?"

And grinning, Torrance went to join her.


End file.
